


Carter Montgomery is trying her best, okay?

by seajelly (Legless_fish_on_rollerskates)



Series: SPN outsider POVs [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Laser Tag, POV Outsider, Post-Season/Series 15, Witch Sam Winchester, but the good version of season 15 where nobody dies, sam winchester being a typical little brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legless_fish_on_rollerskates/pseuds/seajelly
Summary: As if working the afternoon shift at the only laser tag joint in all of Smith County wasn’t bad enough, Alice just had to be sick today, and Peter had yet to show up, which left Carter entirely on her own to manage the front desk, and the equipment, and the actual game itself, and Dean Winchester’s forty-second birthday party.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Donna Hanscum/Jody Mills, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Garth Fitzgerald IV/Bess Myers, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak
Series: SPN outsider POVs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195127
Comments: 11
Kudos: 62





	Carter Montgomery is trying her best, okay?

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this on January 23rd, fully intending to post it on the 24th. Obviously, that did not happen. So here, have a Dean birthday fic that's more than a month late, because depression's a little bitch who doesn't like it when I try to write words.

As if working the afternoon shift at the only laser tag joint in all of Smith County wasn’t bad enough, Alice just  _ had  _ to be sick today, and Peter had yet to show up, which left Carter entirely on her own to manage the front desk,  _ and  _ the equipment,  _ and  _ the actual game itself,  _ and  _ Dean Winchester’s forty-second birthday party.

Carter hated dealing with birthday parties on principle. If they weren’t full of hyper children then they were full of drunk adults, and either way the results were the same. There was always the person who inevitably got into a fight with a family member. There was always the person who got hurt because they weren’t following the rules. There was always the person who was somehow five times better than anyone else and finished the game in ten minutes, tops. And they were always,  _ always  _ loud.

Carter did her best to remind herself that she needed this job to pay for college. No matter how satisfying quitting might be in the moment, it would not help her in the long run.

The whole group showed up at the same time, which told Carter that they were probably all coming together from somewhere else. They were a...  _ strange  _ collection of people, to say the least. 

At first, Carter thought it was just another walk-in family, a friendly-looking couple with three young kids. She was opening her mouth to greet them (and inform them that the youngest age they allowed was seven, the two toddlers definitely couldn’t play, and no, they did not make exceptions), but the family stopped long before they reached the desk. They looked back towards the door, clearly waiting for someone. Carter’s heart sank. 

Dean Winchester was easy enough to identify, as he was wearing one of those pointy hats declaring “It’s My Birthday!” in large, colorful letters. He did not look happy about it. Carter wondered why he didn’t take it off.

The next people through the door were a man who was almost comically overdressed and a skinny teenager who was obviously his son. Carter did her best not to laugh, but seriously, who the fuck wore a  _ suit  _ to play  _ laser tag _ ? She hoped he at least took off the trench coat, otherwise he was gonna get really uncomfortable really fast.

After them came a tall man and a woman with dark hair, both in flannel, arguing in sign-language. Carter’s three semesters of ASL did little to help her follow the conversation; they seemed to be talking about Dean’s hat, and being uncomfortable with attention, and… magic spells? Carter shook her head. Eavesdropping was probably rude, anyway.

Bringing up the rear, all shoving through the door in one massive group, were six women. Two of them looked somewhere in their late forties or early fifties; the others were all around twenty. If Carter had to guess, she’d say the older women were the parents of at least some of the younger ones, though she was unsure which. If nothing else she did feel confident that the blonde girl with the heavy eye makeup and the girl in the hoodie with the nose piercing were  _ not  _ sisters, not with the way they looked at each other.

All together Carter counted sixteen people. Subtracting the toddlers, fourteen. The website where they would have made their reservation very clearly said maximum of ten. 

If Peter ever got here, Carter was going to strangle him for leaving her to deal with this.

The tall man who had been signing with his partner approached the desk with a little wave, and Carter plastered a customer-service-smile on her face. 

“Hi, welcome to LaserCitadel, how may I help you?”

The man opened his mouth to respond, but jerked around when the scrawny guy with the little kids suddenly yelled, “Sam!”

“What, Garth?” The tall man—Sam?—called out, sounding exasperated.

“Oh, sorry, little Sam, not you-Sam, you just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Sam turned back around with a quiet groan, dragging a hand through his shaggy hair. “You ever had a friend name their kid after you?” he asked Carter. “‘Cause I was touched, at first, but trust me, it gets old  _ fast _ .”

“Um.”

“Right, sorry! We’re here for my brother’s birthday, should be under the name Dean Campbell?”

Carter frowned. “We have a party reservation for a Dean Winchester, no Dean Campbell though.”

“Oh, um, yes, that’s us.” Sam seemed confused. “He used Winchester? Really?”

“That is the name we have in our system, sir.”

“No, yeah, I believe you, I just…” he trailed off, glancing back at his brother, who seemed to be in a violent struggle with his hat. The man in the trench coat was laughing at him. “Nevermind. Yeah, we’re with Dean Winchester.”

“Wonderful!” Carter did her best to sound cheerful and not like she was contemplating drop-kicking Peter off a cliff. “Right this way.”

It took a ridiculously long time to wrangle everyone into the equipment room. The toddlers could run shockingly fast on their tiny little legs. By the time they had caught all the children, Trench Coat and Baby Trench Coat (who wasn’t actually wearing a trench coat, but who looked so much like his father that Carter decided to call him that anyway) had discovered the little arcade and had to be physically dragged away from the Galaga machine in the corner. Then nobody could find Blondie or Nose Piercing for a solid five minutes (they eventually turned up looking significantly more disheveled than they had when they came in. Carter bit down on a smirk. Definitely not sisters).

When they were finally,  _ finally  _ all in the equipment room, Carter clapped her hands together. “All right! Hi everyone, my name’s Carter, we’re gonna watch a quick safety-slash-instructional video in just a sec, but first I do need to make it clear that we have a maximum capacity of ten players at a time, and we don’t allow anyone under the age of seven to participate.”

Carter braced herself for the argument, but to her surprise, none came.

“It’s fine,” said the woman holding one of the toddlers. “It wouldn’t exactly be fair for us to play, anyway. We’ll sit this one out.”

Dean looked somewhat unhappy about this. “You sure?”

“Bess is right,” said… Garth? Carter was pretty sure his name was Garth. “We do have a bit of an unfair advantage. Besides, Gertie doesn’t like the lights, and someone was always going to have to stay out here with the twins.”

Carter was still trying to figure out what sort of advantage a scrawny guy like Garth could possibly have over the obvious physical strength of almost everyone else in the room, when one of the twentysomethings with dark hair spoke up.

“Even without Garth’s family, that’s still eleven.”

Well, shit.

But somehow, once again, it seemed to be fine.

“I’ll pass, too.” said the older blonde woman, shrugging genially. “I see enough real guns in my life, don’t really need to play around with fake ones. No judgement to any of you,” she added, “I know we all deal with stuff differently.”

The others nodded, and Carter frowned. Maybe the woman was a cop? But then why would she feel the need to reassure the others? Carter pressed play on the video, and studied the group while it ran. Under the surface, Dean’s eyes looked surprisingly similar to how her dad’s had after he came back from the war. A soldier, then? But why on Earth would a soldier want to spend his birthday playing war games for fun? 

Still, he had that kind of tension in him, the same tension that Carter’s dad had never quite been able to shake. So did Trench Coat and Sam. So did all of them, actually, now that she was looking for it. Less so in some of the younger ones, but still there. 

Who  _ were  _ these people?

She couldn’t quite tell all of their relationships to each other, either. Whether they were family or friends; who was related to who, and how. As they watched the video, Carter did her best to sort the things she knew.

Garth and Bess and their three kids seemed like a pretty cohesive family unit, and they didn’t resemble anyone else in the group. Trench Coat and Baby Trench Coat could not more obviously be father and son. Sam was Dean’s brother, and the woman he had been signing with earlier was leaning on his shoulder in a way that made Carter suspect they were together. Blondie and Nose Piercing were definitely dating, and Blondie also looked similar enough to Baby Trench Coat that they could probably pass as siblings if they tried. Cousins, maybe? So that made Trench Coat and one of the older women siblings. Unless they were related to Baby Trench Coat’s mom, not his dad. And what about the other young women?

That was about where Carter got stuck. She went back through the information again, trying to remember who had come in together, how they interacted, what they said. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice was telling her that she was being creepy, that it didn’t matter what this family’s dynamic was, that it was none of her business. But something about these people intrigued her. Their energy drew her in. They weren't really that strange on the surface, but there was an air of oddness and mystery around them anyway. Carter didn’t know what the question was, but that didn't stop her from desperately craving the answer.

The video ended, snapping Carter out of her thoughts as everyone moved in a rush over to the gear hanging on the wall. Suddenly it was a mad dash to get suited up, and in the midst of helping one of the twentysomethings who had somehow put her pack on backwards, Carter almost missed Peter popping his head in the door to let her know he was managing the desk and not to worry about it.

“Dammit Peter, get your ass back in here—” But he was already gone. Carter groaned. Looked like she was stuck running a game of laser tag for a bunch of weirdos. Joy.

She glanced around to see if anyone else needed assistance. Baby Trench Coat was having some trouble with the straps on his gear, but the older woman with the short, dark hair was helping him. Carter leaned against the wall with a sigh.

Trench Coat had taken off his trench coat—and his suit jacket, and had rolled up his sleeves. He had surprisingly strong arms. Carter wasn’t sure why she had noticed this.

Dean was fully suited up, and seemed to be appreciating Trench Coat’s arms as much as Carter was. (That was an…interesting development). He was also still wearing the stupid paper birthday hat.

“Hey, dude, you’re gonna need to take the hat off to play the game, sorry,” said Carter.

Dean looked at her with wide eyes. “I have to?”

Carter cringed. “Look man, I honestly don’t care, but it’s technically considered a safety violation and I kinda need this job, so—”

“You hear that, Sammy?” Dean cut her off. “Wouldn’t want this nice young lady to lose her job, guess the hat has to go!” 

Sam hesitated, glancing between Carter and Dean, before sighing and muttering something under his breath. “Fine, there, take the damn hat off.”

Dean ripped the hat violently off his head, crushed it into a ball, and hurled it across the room, smiling sweetly at Sam the whole time. 

Carter decided that she didn’t really want to know.

Once everyone was set up, Carter led them into the glow maze and sat back to watch. (Technically she was supposed to be managing the scoreboard, but it updated itself automatically, and she was much more interested in seeing what sorts of strategies Dean Winchester and his friends would use, anyway).

The two young women who weren’t the couple were the first to go, somehow managing to both shoot each other in the chest at the same time. They laughed a little bit and went to stand by the wall, pulling out their phones.

After them was Baby Trench Coat, shot in the back by his father. The look of betrayal on his face was hilarious as he stomped away to the wall. 

Then the blonde girl came racing around the corner, her girlfriend in hot pursuit. Carter raised her eyebrows, impressed by how fast they could run. Maybe they did track.

When Carter glanced back at the wall, Sam was standing next to Baby Trench Coat. Carter blinked. Had Sam somehow gotten shot without her noticing? But no, the lights on his gear were all still active. Sam leaned in towards the kid, and Carter inched closer, trying to hear what he was saying.

“...everything back at the bunker?”

Baby Trench Coat nodded. “We should be good to go. Charlie checked in from Upstairs a few minutes ago, she and Bobby have got everyone gathered at Ash’s Roadhouse projection. I can break them out whenever it’s time.”

“And we’re sure there won’t be any issue with Amara?”

“She’s agreed to look the other way so long as everybody’s back where they belong by tomorrow. We’ll probably never be able to do it again, but we can have tonight.”

Sam grinned. “Good. You should probably head out soon, then, make sure everyone’s in position when the rest of us get back. I’ll make something up to tell Dean if he asks where you are.”

Baby Trench Coat nodded and then he was just… gone. Carter shook her head and looked around. He must have left through the door, but she hadn’t seen him go. She stuck her head out into the equipment room. The kid’s gear was hanging on the wall, but he was nowhere to be seen. It was just Garth’s family and the older blonde woman, talking about the nutritional benefits of chicken hearts.

_ Damn _ there were some weird diets out there.

Carter sighed and shut the door, going back to her seat. While she had been distracted, the blonde girl and the other older woman had both been taken out. Five down. Five to go.

Dean and Trench Coat were standing close together, wary tension in the air between them. Trench Coat raised his eyebrows, a challenge. Dean grinned and jerked his head toward a darker corner. 

Carter cursed under her breath at the dawning realization of what that eye contact meant, decided she didn’t get paid enough to deal with this, and resolved to ignore them.

It turned out it was rather difficult to ignore two people making out five feet away from her chair. Did they not realize that she was  _ right there _ ? In all the weirdness with Baby Trench Coat Carter had almost forgotten about her plans to murder Peter, but now they came back with a vengeance. Alice wore painfully bright colors, and she was constantly bugging Carter to read some book series she was super into (it was about ghost hunting, or something, Carter didn’t really know), but at least she was responsible. The only reason she wasn’t here today was because she was sick. Peter, on the other hand, had shown up forty-five minutes late without so much as an apology, and it was  _ entirely his fault  _ that Carter was now stuck watching two grown men grope each other like teenagers.

Except suddenly Trench Coat raised his gun and shot Dean in the chest.

Carter clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh as Dean jerked back, gaping.

“Cas! How could you?”

Trench Coat did something with his eyebrows that clearly conveyed a smirk, despite the rest of his face remaining stoic. “I was under the impression that the object of the game was to eliminate members of the opposing team using whatever strategies necessary. Was that incorrect?”

Holy shit, this guy was  _ ruthless. _

Dean rolled his eyes and pointed a finger in Trench Coat’s face. “You’re a dick, Cas. Just for that, you can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“If you’d prefer to miss out on epic birthday sex, I can’t stop you. Now I believe you’re supposed to go stand by the wall with the others who have been defeated.” He turned back toward the center of the room, and if he had still been wearing his trench coat it probably would have swished impressively.

“Asshole!” Dean called after him, but he was smiling.

“I love you too!”

Dean shook his head, an absolutely besotted expression on his face now that Cas wasn’t looking at him. Carter couldn't believe she hadn’t realized that they were together before. Now that she knew, it was painfully obvious in all of their interactions.

Honestly, it made her feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside.

Carter assessed the room again. Now that Dean was out, the only member of the red team left was Sam’s girlfriend, up against Sam, Trench Coat-Cas, and Nose Piercing. This would be quick.

Fifteen minutes later, Carter was beginning to rethink that assumption.

The kid had been hit first, and had mostly looked relieved to be able to go stand with her friends. After that, Sam and Cas had fallen into a sort of formation, weapons up, back to back. They’d moved through the room like that with a concerning level of ease—until Sam had been sniped in the back by his girlfriend, who had  _ climbed one of the walls and crouched on top of it. _ (which was definitely a safety violation, but Carter was so beyond caring at this point)

Carter was vaguely disappointed that she hadn’t gotten a chance to see Dean Winchester’s own fighting style, because his friends were terrifyingly competent. And maybe just a little bit insane.

Now Sam’s girlfriend—Carter decided to call her Nella, because calling her “Sam’s girlfriend” didn’t exactly give her the autonomy she deserved as her own badass person, and she looked vaguely like a Nella—and Cas were circling each other. They seemed to be scanning for weaknesses. Nella feinted to the left. Cas didn’t fall for it. Cas took a step forward. Nella took a step back.

Dean started shouting obscene things, Carter figured in an attempt to fluster them. The older woman smacked him, and the blonde girl laughed. Cas and Nella didn’t react.

And then, out of the blue, the weird techno-pop that had been playing quietly in the background was replaced by ear-splittingly loud rock music.

Everyone flinched except for Nella, who used Cas’s momentary distraction as an opportunity to shoot him. The lights on his gear went dark, but he was no longer paying attention, gaze focused entirely on Dean.

“That was cheating.”

“ _ ‘Eliminate members of the opposing team using whatever strategies necessary.’ _ Isn’t that what you said?” Dean grinned, shouting over the music. “I’m just playing the game, sweetheart. Eileen shot you, that means the red team wins.”

“ _ And _ it means the blue team loses,” added the blonde girl, looking gleeful.

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care if it’s your birthday Dean, I am  _ not  _ singing karaoke.”

“We can discuss penalties back at the bunker.” Dean tapped something on his phone, and the music stopped. Carter stared.

“Hacking the sound system was absolutely not within the terms of the deal,” Cas continued to protest as the group started making their way over to the doors.

“Neither was shooting me while your tongue was down my throat.”

Sam grimaced. “Seriously, Dean?”

“Hey, he was the one that did it.”

They continued to bicker as they spilled out into the equipment room. Carter really should have been in there helping them, but she was still just sitting there, maybe a little tiny bit shellshocked. They carried themselves like soldiers. They had mentioned some sort of  _ bunker  _ several times now. Baby Trench Coat had seemingly vanished into thin air. Nella/Eileen had climbed a freaking wall. And now Dean Winchester had hacked their sound system _?  _ From his  _ phone? _

Who the hell were these people?

Carter shook herself. It wasn’t her business to know. She had a job to do. Natural curiosity aside, all of her instincts were screaming at her that pursuing answers would only be dangerous. Carter was inclined to trust her instincts.

So when she went to pick up the crumpled birthday hat off the floor and Sam stopped her while muttering something about hazardous residual magic, Carter didn’t ask. When Dean joked that the laser tag had been “sorta like running from the SWAT team that time in Milwaukee,” Carter didn’t ask. When one of the twentysomethings declared that she was trying to settle a debate with her friend over how many of them had been stabbed and half the people in the room raised a hand—including both Blondie and Nose Piercing, Jesus, they couldn’t be much older than Carter herself—she didn’t ask.

And then the fucking fire alarm went off, because this day hadn’t been eventful enough already, and by the time Carter was done yelling at Peter for  _ trying to smoke pot in the office, seriously??  _ Dean Winchester and Co. were gone.

Carter went home after that, deciding that she might read one of Alice’s stupid books after all, to thank her for at least being a better coworker than Peter. She was pretty sure Alice had said there were sex scenes, so maybe it wouldn’t even be that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Red team: Dean, Claire, Eileen, Jack, Patience  
> Blue team: Cas, Kaia, Sam, Jody, Alex
> 
> (Briana Buckmaster is actually only 38, but I aged Donna up a little because it felt really weird to have her be younger than Dean) 
> 
> LaserCitadel is not a real place, I actually couldn’t find any places to play laser tag in Smith County, but I didn’t want them to be too far from home, so I made one up. If you live in Kansas and happen to know of anywhere near Lebanon to play laser tag, feel free to let me know.
> 
> Hopefully there aren't too many weird tone shifts, I did my best but I wrote parts of this very quickly and other parts VERY slowly, so it's all a little messy. Thank you for reading!


End file.
